TITLE: Somebody That I Used To Know

AUTHOR: bolly69

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or concept; they belong to the BBC/Ashley/Matthew, etc.

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This will eventually be an M rating, please do not read on if you're easily offended by sex and/or strong language.

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Chapter 5

Alex stretched out her stiff limbs and neck, flexing her hands and feet to start her circulation up again; falling asleep on the sofa didn't get any easier, no matter how many times you did it. She brought her fingers up to her face and ran them over her cheeks; they were dry and tight from the salty tears she had shed last night; so many tears. She had cried; cried her eyes out; cried until there were no tears left. She hadn't really known what she was crying for, enveloped in sadness, as though grieving for something once so precious, but now lost.

The soft snoring next to her brought her fully awake and she glanced at the slumbering figure in the dim light; Gene, looking crumpled and decidedly uncomfortable; he must have shifted his body around her without encroaching on her space, allowing her the relative comfort of most of the sofa, once sleep had finally taken her and thankfully ended the tears.

She watched him for a while, drinking in his features through the gloom; tracing his outline from his shaggy mane, down his proud brow, to his ridiculously long lashes that hid those amazing blue eyes, and his too-pretty-for-a-man nose; she lingered on his oh so pouty lips, then studied his jutting jaw and chin, defiant even in sleep. So familiar, yet she didn't know why.

He hadn't told her much last night, but between bouts of her crying he had passed on scant details of her apparently not-so-fantasy world; of his team, their cases, her flat above a restaurant; she still couldn't believe it. She was obviously more brain damaged than the doctors had said, not only constructing a fantasy world and then suffering severe amnesia, but now she had taken in a complete stranger and was on the verge of believing him even when he said she had travelled in time, or space, or something. And he was here, asleep on her sofa. For fuck's sake Alex!

She tried to extricate herself from the sofa without disturbing him, her throat still hoarse and dry from the crying, she was in desperate need of a drink. He stirred and mumbled and she gently stroked his hair, thinking how different he was to David; a bit of rough with an underlying air of danger, despite how sweet he'd been with her; so utterly gorgeous and perfectly shaggable, he made her weak at the knees; Oh! She recognised what that was – he actually turned her on! Now that was something that hadn't happened for a while; certainly not with bloody boring David anyway.

She ran his question through her head again – 'is that enough?' but quickly shook it away, not wanting to admit the truth. What was it about this man that she was thinking of him this way? "Who are you?" she whispered.

She quietly padded to her cool and airy kitchen, trying to smooth out her dress, creased beyond all recognition, and absentmindedly ran the cold tap while staring out into the early dawn breaking over the city; office lights blinking out and traffic signals changing for no one; early morning delivery vans and workers moving silently around a ghost town. It was Friday she realised, the final surge of the working week before the dash to the weekend; but for now, for her, it was just the beginnings of a brand new day; what would it hold for her she wondered. She filled a glass with cold water and went back to the sofa, sitting cross legged at one end, just watching him, wanting desperately to remember; him striding around like he owned the place; him holding court with a whisky in his hand; him asleep on her sofa, in her flat, above Luigi's. Wait, what?

She stared at his sleeping face, willing more memories, true or imagined, to come. 'Now then Bollingerknickers, you gonna kiss me or punch me?' her hand was on his heart, beating so real, so alive, and his hand was… on her breast. She frowned, confused. He couldn't be that Neanderthal, surely?

Slap! 'You feel better now?'

'No' Punch! 'Better now'.

She sipped her water and found her eyes tearing up. Again. Was that really her; really him?

'Veal scaloppini for the lovely Signora', sitting at a corner table beneath the kitschiest wall mural she had ever seen, drinking until almost unconscious and staggering up those stairs, sometimes not alone, but with him… Oh dear God, she was certainly losing her mind now, yet the memories felt so real, so vivid.

She placed her glass on the table and held her head in her hands, massaging her temples and aching scar. These memories felt out of place but somehow right, as though the pieces were finally falling into place, but not all, not yet; a huge Gene shaped piece was still missing. Resting her throbbing head on the arm of the sofa, she closed her eyes, praying for sleep to take her again.

Somewhere between sleep and consciousness she felt herself being carried by Gene, into a large glass building, through wooden double doors and into an office; the Manc Lion's domain; he smelled of smoke and whisky and him; then she was being carried out of a freezer, shivering and afraid, but feeling so safe holding on to him; then he took her hand, and then scooped her up and away from the horrific vision of the blazing inferno of a car that had carried her parents, and almost her, to their deaths; and then she was laying against his chest, against his perspiring skin in the dark in that hot, sweaty vault, gasping for breath, chest heaving, tears falling, fearing for the first time that she could actually die in that world.

'Gene…?'

'…I know'

'You're taller than I imagined'

'I'm bigger in every department'

'I'll let you stamp my bum'

'I'll get my coat'

'DI Bollyknickers, you appear to be drunk in charge of a handbag and dressed like a tart again'

'Oh piss off, you lardy fascist!'

'Unbreakable, Bolly. Unbreakable'

'I didn't say come'

'I'm a modern girl Guv, I come when I need to'

'Wakey wakey Drakey. Oh come on, you weren't that shot'

'Get up. Come here. I'm sorry. I could have hit my target but you fell all wrong'

'Sometimes in life you can't help which way you fall'

'You do know when I walk through those doors they're gonna come for me?'

'Yeah… Well, there's only one thing for it. Let's fire up the Quattro'

'I'm looking for love. You got any?'

'You and I have been through a lot together professionally and you know… in other ways'

'Come on, spit it out, Bolls'

'Let's have dinner together. Tonight'

'Why?'

'Because I've got a feeling we won't get many more opportunities, that's why'

'What, you mean a date?'

'Yeah, I suppose so'

'Alright, you're on. But I have to warn you Bolly, first date, upstairs outside only'

'You talk to me, Alex. If I mean anything to you at all'

The montage of dream scenes swirled around her head, a melee of emotions dragged along too, exciting and distressing her. She jumped awake as his hand touched her face, and found she was quietly sobbing again.

"Alex… Alex love, what's up? Wake up love…"

"Gene… you…" she placed her trembling hand on his cheek and gazed into his sleepy blue eyes. She whispered, "It was you, always you. You were always there…"

He half smiled, "I go where I'm needed Bolls…"

And he had; he had always saved her; he had always been where he was needed; where she needed him. The remnants of what she had felt for him also lingered, conflicting emotions; fear and confidence; danger and security; contempt and admiration; hate and… love… Fuck.

She gulped a sob away, "And you came here, now," her voice cracked, her eyes begging him for answers, "Do I need you now Gene?"

He shook his head, "I don't know Alex. I think I've made things worse for you, and if I have then I'm sorry… should go, give you peace…"

She interrupted him, her voice quiet, "The Gene Genie doesn't give up that easily does he? What was it you once said, about us? Unbreakable, that's the word…"

"Alex?" now he was confused.

"You were right you know, what you said to Scarman, it all came to be…"

"Christ Bolls, are you back with me?" he sat back into the sofa, slightly stunned.

She smiled, but tears rolled down her cheeks, "Not quite Guv, but I'm getting there; it's all fragmented at the moment, still big holes in my memory, like Swiss cheese"

"Oh Alex love…" he moved closer to hold her hand.

"Why Gene? Why did you come here? Honestly?"

He sunk down into the cushions and sighed, dropping his head so she couldn't see his eyes, the windows into his soul, "For you. Couldn't move on without seeing you again. I've missed you… every day… " he looked into her eyes, reinforcing his meaning; there, the truth was out; the proud Manc Lion had been reduced to what he really was and had tried so hard to hide for too long; he was lonely and lost without her, without his Alex.

She understood what it had cost him to say that and fell into his open arms, sobbing into his chest. He held her tight, so tight, like he never wanted to let her go, stroking along her back and whispering into her hair.

"How much do you remember?"

Between sobs she was barely audible, "Just bits, some things about the team, and dear Shaz; but mostly of you, carrying me, sober and drunk. I seemed to be drunk a lot" she sniffled and gazed up at him "We were close?"

He sighed, "Yes. And no. We fought like cat and dog, some right old ding dongs we had. But when we worked together, oh we were so good Alex" his chest lifted with pride.

"And away from work?"

"Well we could drink Luigi's dry!" he tried the easy route, but she wasn't having that as an answer.

"But were we ever… more?"

He dropped his eyes sadly, "Almost. Not quite"

"Gene?"

He had to tell her it all, everything; he had to fix what was broken and right now that was Alex. "When I first met you I knew two things; One: I had to shag you, and two: I never would. Way out of my league. And then it all changed, we became a team. I respected you and all your psychology bolloc…"

"Psychiatry…"

"No, I said it right" he announced proudly.

"I know you did…" she smiled kindly.

He laughed, understanding what she had done. "Anyway, then I didn't just want to shag you…"

"Oh…" the disappointment in her voice was noticable.

He quickly finished his sentence, "…not just that… I wanted more…"

She stared into his eyes, not daring to break contact, and wondered how long it had been since she'd taken a breath.

"…Oh Alex, I've fucked it all up for you just when you were getting better, getting back to normal. I dunno know why I was so selfish, coming here just to satisfy my own stupid ego; the Manc Lion and all that bollocks, needing to see every one of his team safe"

"No… No, you've opened my eyes. I wasn't living here Gene, don't you see, I couldn't feel anything, not really, just like Sam said. These new memories feel so much more real than this," she waved her hand around her, "this half life. I'm starting to feel alive Gene, like I did back then," she thrust her hand onto his chest over his heart, "still beating, so real" she gazed up into his eyes, a flicker of a smile danced across her lips, "your move, if I remember correctly…"

He laughed and rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and breathing her in, "Oh Bolls… "

"And in answer to your question Gene, no, it's not enough…"

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Thanks for reading! ;-)

Thanks to Ash & Matt for giving us fantastic characters to play with, to whatever ends…

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